Angel

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Angel Page 2

by Lola Dodge


  I had a party to plan, reminders to send, some positive PR to get out, L.A. travel plans to take care of and now a bit of a conspiracy to start unraveling.

  For starters.

  Just another average Sunday with the M10.

  Quan

  Fuck airplanes.

  I should never have left the jungle. Everything at the airport was rumbling engines, offensive smoke and metallic-tasting air that seared my throat.

  And the fucking crowds.

  Waiting in the customs line had my fingers itching to form claws. Only two dudes were working the booths and at their pace, I’d pop a vein before getting to the front. The closest people to me in this rope cage had obviously caught on to my throat-ripping mood because I had a few feet of space in every direction.

  As I shuffled forward, dragging my one bag, all I could do was crack my knuckles and imagine getting my hands on Balam. I couldn’t wait to fight my brother and his wifey, Ivory. Nothing less than the promise of blood and adrenaline would’ve gotten me on a plane.

  Even if Madre was practically booting my ass out of the tribe. Just because her youngest son had locked down the most badass lady on the planet, I was supposed to hustle and find my own ball and chain.

  I couldn’t curse out my mother, but Jesus. Why bother?

  All the panther ladies back home were mine to play with, and playing was all I wanted. Strings were for assholes.

  Although Ivory…

  If I’d met her first, I might’ve been tempted to make the same call as my little bro. Warrior women as fine and fierce as that didn’t come around twice.

  I wouldn’t settle for anyone less.

  Actually, fuck that. I wouldn’t settle at all.

  I loved the lazy days in the jungle, living how I wanted. The restlessness I’d been feeling was just because I’d tasted fiercer battles and missed the thrill.

  New York would fix that. Superheroes might be douchebags, but I wouldn’t find better action than the Manhattan Ten, and Bro could get me the hook-up to fight. I just needed to stretch my claws against some worthy opponents. For the promise of all that, I’d deal with the smog and chaos.

  A nosy-ass little dog brought me back to the line from hell. “Excuse me, sir.” The chick holding the leash looked me up and down, and red flushed her pale white skin. “Are you carrying any fruits or vegetables?”

  Fruits or vegetables? The dog’s ears were pressed back flat, and it wasn’t because I had mangoes in my pockets. Little fucker must’ve picked up on my panther side. I glared until he backed down, resting his chin on his paws.

  That’s right.

  “Sir.” The lady lifted the rope from its post and gestured for me to step outside the line. “I’m going to have to ask you to follow me.”

  “No thanks.” I was almost to the front and I hadn’t done anything wrong.

  “It’s not a request.” Her eyes hardened, and the few people still nearby took extra steps back.

  “Then don’t ask.” Shit. My nails were already lengthening into points. I wanted to shift and bound the hell out of here.

  She lifted whatever radio/walkie-talkie shit was pinned to her neon vest and said some code that probably meant I was a terrorist or coke smuggler.

  I crossed my arms, trying to keep my claws from busting out. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “Just stay where you are.” Her voice wavered. Was that fear I smelled? When I was just standing here?

  Boots echoed on the tile as ten armed guards in camo hustled over.

  I licked my lips.

  Maybe I’d get my fight sooner than expected.

  Chapter Two

  Angel

  “All ready?” Thunder stood at the steps to the Manhattan Ten’s G6, wearing fitted jeans, a dark tee and the navy blue hat from his old Air Force uniform.

  “Everything should be in order.” I handed my weekend bag to the man loading the plane. My hotel was confirmed, I was registered for the recruitment fair and I’d packed for several contingencies. I hadn’t booked a car from the airport, but then, I never did when I was in L.A. Mom was clairvoyant enough to know I’d be arriving.

  “Let’s hit the sky.” Thunder bowed and waved me onto the plane, a twinkle in his green eyes.

  The first time we met—Thunder wearing full military dress, his eyes hard and posture rigid.

  He’d come a long way in those years. Or rather, being on the team had helped him find the balance he needed as he came out with both his powers and his sexuality. The guys and I accepted him for who he was: part of the family.

  We weren’t perfect, but our reputation as one of the most tight-knit hero groups was yet another reason I was about to get swamped in potential recruits.

  Unfortunately, we were only shopping for one roster vacancy.

  I climbed the steps and followed Thunder into the cockpit. No reason to treat it like a chauffeured journey when I was friends with the pilot. “I wish we could get you out of your commitments in D.C. I’d love to have some back-up.”

  Thunder buckled into the pilot’s seat. “You and me both. This legislative bullshitting is killing my spirit. I’m one asshole lobbyist away from letting the thunder fly.”

  I tsked. “You would never.” He was far too diplomatic to slip. That was exactly why he was our representative for so many government proceedings.

  “No. But I’d imagine it in excruciating detail.”

  “That’s fair.” A smile cracked my lips, releasing some of the tension in my shoulders. For a few hours, at least, I planned to chat, enjoy the ride and forget about the rest of my responsibilities as much as possible.

  Thunder flicked switches and adjusted some of the buttons, preparing for take off. I’d flown with him so often I was positive I could pilot the plane from memory.

  I could also build bombs out of household cleaning products in a pinch, but that didn’t mean I ever wanted to bring the knowledge into reality.

  We got bumped to the front of the queue for takeoff, and Thunder brought us airborne. The skyscrapers of Manhattan slipped below the clouds as we ascended, and I immediately felt lighter. Yes, this trip was another responsibility, but I hadn’t been home for ages. Los Angeles was the place my soul felt most at ease. As much as I was dreading the upcoming zoo, the trip wasn’t without benefits. I’d stop off at the corner nail salon and practice my Cantonese with the girls, take Mom out to our favorite taco truck and catch up with Pixie, who I hadn’t seen in far too long.

  “You sure you’re up to this?” Thunder kept his eyes on the sky, but I could hear the concern in his voice. “You’ve been…off lately.”

  “A little lack of sleep and stress. Nothing unusual.” Though I couldn’t entirely disagree with him. I hadn’t forgotten anything important because I couldn’t forget, but I’d been late to complete a few minor tasks. Getting Belle moved in, for one. But it had all been resolved, and our in-house ballerina was fully settled.

  “We’re worried about you, you know. Everyone. I had lunch with Ruin, Nil and Pan, and we think—”

  “Thunder. You don’t know how much I appreciate that concern, but I’m fine. Truly.” They were sweet to think of me, but I didn’t need an intervention just because I’d been a little absentminded. It was just stress making my flashback spells slightly more potent than usual. Nothing I couldn’t handle.

  He shot me a side eye. “If you say so. Just know that my spies in L.A. will be watching.”

  “You have spies now?” Admirers, yes. Fan clubs, absolutely. But spies? Not in character.

  “A legion of them. They’ll be reporting your every move to headquarters, so don’t overdo it.”

  I smiled. By “legion” he probably meant he’d tipped a doorman last time he was in town. “You don’t have to worry so much.”

  “Can’t help it when my best girl is s
o down.” He reached over and patted my shoulder. “You need to book a massage and relax. This trip isn’t all business.”

  “That sounds wonderful.” Though time would be tight between the recruiting events, digging for leads at the Pack and stealing a few moments to spend with friends and family. If it came down to it, I’d rather see Mom and Pixie than be alone at a spa.

  I settled in for the trip, tracing patterns in the clouds and mentally walking my favorite streets in L.A. Of course, the stores would be different now, but when I closed my eyes, I was eight years old, walking down Olvera Street at Mom’s side with a lemon-flavored popsicle in one hand and the scent of spicy taquitos in the air.

  Some memories were nice.

  My vibrating phone broke the trip to the past.

  Thunder’s eyes widened in mock horror. “Are you trying to crash this bird, woman? Where’s the airplane mode?”

  “The pilot never told me to turn off my phone,” I said as I unzipped my purse. Ivory’s name lit the screen, and a knot of worry formed in my shoulders. Friend or not, she wasn’t one to call for a casual chat. “Hello?”

  “Angel?” The tone in Ivory’s voice was irritation rather than alarm. “I need a favor.”

  “Of course. What’s the problem?”

  Panther muttered something in the background, but Ivory shushed her husband. “There’s trouble at LAX, and we think Tequani may be involved.”

  “Panther’s brother?” I only knew a few facts about Tequani, but Panther had always given the impression that Quan preferred the jungles of South America to civilization. “What kind of trouble?” Though I had a sneaking suspicion…

  “He was planning to visit us in New York. Now I’m trying to get through to someone at TSA, but going by the CNN headline…‘Panther Loose in Customs’.”

  Pendejo. Even if he’d been living in a cave, Quan should know better than that. “Tell me he has the right visa to be in the country.” Supers—which encompassed panther-shifter tribesmen—couldn’t just pop between international borders, and Homeland Security wouldn’t be pleased if that was what Quan was trying to do.

  Ominous silence buzzed over the line. “Ivory?”

  She sighed. “I’m not sure. We weren’t expecting him for a few more weeks.”

  “I’ll make some calls and hurry over as soon as we touch down.” I needed to get in touch with the authorities now before anyone got trigger-happy.

  “Thank you, Angel.” Ivory’s voice tightened. “But be careful. Quan is not as tame as my Panther.”

  Tame? Panther had mellowed since falling for Ivory, but at his core, he was the same jungle cat he’d always been. Panther was also a hilarious, honest man I was proud to call my friend, but that hunter’s spirit always glinted in the depths of his yellow eyes.

  What was Quan like if Ivory—the warrior woman herself—considered him wild?

  “I will. And I’ll call you when it’s settled.” As soon as I hung up, I dialed security at LAX. Thanks to Ivory, it wasn’t my first time dealing with an altercation at the airport.

  After more than a few rings, the phone picked up. A feral roar echoed through the line before a man’s voice responded. “Is this animal control? We’re about to shoot this—”

  “No, you’re not.”

  Notes of panic cut through his angry voice. “I don’t have time for this, lady. We—”

  I cut him off again. “I’m Angel with the Manhattan Ten, and you’re going to listen to my instructions very carefully. You are not to harm that shifter. I’m en route with tranquilizers and will take over as soon as I touch down.”

  “Who do you—?”

  “Just tell your supervisor.” I hung up the phone and started dialing a different office. I needed to make a few more calls to iron this out, and I was guessing the man I’d been speaking to wasn’t high on the totem pole.

  “What now?” Thunder’s hat rose with his brows.

  “I have a panther to pick up at security.” I dug the zippered pouch of medicines from the bottom of my tote. I always kept a course on hand in case anyone got hurt, and the sedatives tailored to Panther would work just fine on his brother. “Can you fly faster?”

  “I can if you let me call this in as an emergency.”

  “Do it.” I’d say a rogue panther running amok at the airport counted as an emergency.

  Thunder couldn’t help a grin as he reached for the com unit. “I’ve been dying to hit some G forces.”

  My stomach roiled at the thought. I tightened my seatbelt and got down to calling. Homeland Security. TSA. Even the Los Angeles Zoo.

  If I didn’t cover all the bases, getting deported would be the least of Tequani’s worries. It was going to take every one of my connections to keep Quan from ending up a taxidermy project.

  Quan

  Shifting hadn’t been the plan, but shit. I could only deal with so much.

  After the asshole security guards herded me into an office, a couple of dudes got in my face. What was I smuggling? Who was I working for?

  When I’d sized them up, all I could smell was fear. And I should’ve kept my shit together, but the smells and sights and sounds were too overwhelming. On four paws, I could make more sense of the chaos.

  I’d slipped free, trying to make a run for the terminal exit, but thanks to a few dudes with rifles, I was pinned down in an empty office. I padded back and forth, searching for a way out that didn’t involve bullets in my hide. I could run cross-country to New York in a few days and I’d sure as shit rather paw it than get on another plane.

  I shouldn’t have fucking come.

  Too late to go back.

  Tempting fear scent wafted from outside, but I couldn’t get in the habit of mauling norms. It wouldn’t be much fun, anyway.

  I hopped onto one of the desks, sending pens and computer equipment crashing to the floor. The upper windows were within jumping range, but too small to fit through in either form. By the sounds and the vibrations against my paws, the dudes outside had dragged something heavy in front of the door.

  That left the wall of heavy-duty glass. I hopped down and padded over to part the long plastic blinds with my nose.

  Not much had changed—a ring of armed security guards blocked off the area, holding a solid perimeter. I’d been barricaded for at least half an hour, and my fur stood in irritation. I could break the glass, but I’d take damage and come out the other side an easy target for weapons.

  I could also shift human and cooperate, but that would end with me in custody, and I wasn’t feeling so fucking cooperative after being hauled off because of a scared-ass puppy. I just needed an opening and I could make another run.

  A clacking sound drew my attention back to the guards. A woman’s heels clicked against the floor tiles in even steps. I parted the blinds farther.

  She wore her dark hair pinned in a twist, and a skirt and jacket hugged her curves. The woman’s bright red lips popped against her bronzed skin, but it wasn’t her looks that held my gaze. Every one of the guards had changed posture. The guy she spoke to bobbed his head in deference, and the officers on the perimeter shifted from foot to foot, showing their unease.

  For whatever reason, this woman scared them more than I did.

  From the way she held her shoulders straight and stared each man straight in the eye, she had authority and she knew how to use it.

  She handed her purse to the officer in charge and strode toward the wall of glass, carrying only a small pouch.

  I snorted at the expression on the guy’s face. Someone didn’t like being demoted to purse holder.

  She knelt in front of the glass, smoothing the skirt that pulled just above her knees. “Tequani? I’m Angel. I work with your brother and Ivory.”

  My acknowledgment came out in a huff that fogged the glass, shifting the blinds. They’d both mentioned Angel be
fore, but why was the woman here?

  “Would you like to do this the easy way and shift back to two legs?” she asked.

  Easy way? I shook my head. The easy way would involve all those guys trying to stick me in handcuffs and getting their arms ripped off. Not that I minded a fight, but they’d end up dead and then I’d definitely be in jail. Nobody would come close if I stayed in panther form.

  “I’m going to have the men drag away the barricade, but you’d better panther-promise me you’ll be on your best behavior.”

  My ears flattened. This woman would not tell me what to do.

  Lo que sea. She was obviously no fighter. Easy enough to knock her away and dart off to the exit.

  “Don’t give me that look.” Angel’s eyes narrowed and she tapped the glass with a red-lacquered fingernail. “You know better than to shift in public. It’s either go nicely with me, or these guards will escort you to the zoo.”

  I couldn’t help a growl, but I ducked my head. Let her think I’d play nice.

  “Good.” She straightened and waved a few of the men over.

  I retreated as the ground started to vibrate—they were clearing the barricade, as promised, and the weight squealed as they dragged it across the floor. I sat back on my haunches, ready to make a running leap.

  “I’m opening the door,” Angel called. “Be nice.”

  My tail twitched, ready to jump.

  The door swung open, and I froze.

  I hadn’t read a threat from her, but Angel stood with her feet braced on high-heels, a gun balanced in both hands.

  I leaped, and she side-stepped.

  Bang bang.

  Both shots hit my flank, and by the cold pricks and chemical scent, they weren’t bullets. I managed a few more bounds before the drugs hit my system and my legs gave out. I slid, sprawling just shy of the guards holding the perimeter.

  “Step back from him.” At Angel’s commanding voice, they all hopped away.

  This bitch.

  My hearing was dulling, but her clacking footsteps echoed. Angel knelt at my side and scratched behind one of my ears. She smelled like jasmine. “Sorry, Quan. This is the only way you get to walk free.”

 

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